regular afternoon chat

me: where's your phone book?

my dad: what's it to you?

me: i need it

my dad: for what?

me: i need to make some fuckin phone calls

my dad: all right! it's in the drawer

me: (gets up and goes in the other room)

my dad: where are you going?

me: i'm going in the other room. i don't want you listening in on my shit.

my dad: (follows me)

me: get out of here, i'm fuckin doing things!

my dad: yeah well i'm smoking a cigarette

me: i think i'm getting sick

my dad: you're not getting sick you drama queen

me: yes i am i'm all fuckin sweaty

my dad: it's hot out!

me: no it's not

my dad: well it's fuckin humid

me: hardly

my dad: it's humid. and you're wearing a sweater, why the hell are you wearing a sweater?

me: i'm trying to make PHONE CALLS here do you need to be bothering me?

my dad: oh excuse me

me: (on the phone) hi daryl how are you? hahah i know! i haven't talked to you in so long

my dad: (mocking) hahha i haven't talked to you in so long

me: (mouthing to him) FUCK YOU (finishes up phone call) (back to dad) you know you're an asshole

my dad: yeah well you're a bimbo and i don't know how your fiance puts up with you

me: he loves me

my dad: yeah he loves your blow jobs

me: i'm going upstairs, don't bother me

my dad: don't worry i won't



2004-09-28, 1:04 p.m.
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